


Close my eyelids, hide my eyes

by Subtle_Shenanigans



Category: Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Blood, Damien Spoilers, Don’t copy to another site, Gen, Snow, Sorta theories for tommarrows vid, WKM, forest, hypothermia?, no beta we die like men, post Who Killed Markiplier, probably not an exact quote from the teaser, song tone inspired?, sorta - Freeform, stylistic wroting, woods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 09:16:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18797407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Subtle_Shenanigans/pseuds/Subtle_Shenanigans
Summary: Just a Damien Drabble for tommarrow ^u^.Close your eyes part 1





	Close my eyelids, hide my eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Look I’ve been listening to _small hands_ by Keaton Henson the last two days and then Mark drops this thing about tommarrows Damien Video and I love that character a lot so here’s this mess inspired by the tone (not lyrics) of adore mentioned song.
> 
> This doesn’t follow my exact theory over on tumblr; rather, this is a written inspiration in preparation.

     A stuttered breath ghosting out and upwards.

    His eyes are unfocused as he is there, fallen to his hands and knees, blood dripping from cracked lips dry from the cold; frozen hands soaking snow red from rips and tears.

     He’s so cold.

     So. . .cold.

     Eventually, Damien picks himself up, hands shaking despite being frozen solid. His beard and hair are coated in frost, and the forest rises around him, silent and unbidden, when his eyes focus.

    He takes a step.

     And another, until he’s walking again, the axe dragged along behind him.

     Will he see the cabin again?

    Or. . .or hear Celine?

     ~~He misses his sister.~~

   Damien continues to stumble along despite the stinging cold creeping across and eventually warming him.

  He knows that’s bad.

  He ignores it.

  By time he stops to rest again, leaning heavily on the axe, he takes a moment to steady his breath.

    _These woods are nothing but a place for forgotten things._

_~~**Broken things.**~~_

    Damien closes his eyes and tilts his head skyward; he knows nothing but grayish white is above him. Is the sky here even real?

    With a sigh he continues on his way.

   And then stops.

   A slash of color against the snow.

   It’s a flower, leaning more towards pink, maybe a tad purple, but not red. Not red like-

_~~blood~~ _

_~~a robe~~ _

_~~bleeding grin and eyes and **-**~~ _

_~~celine is red red red red and~~ _

_~~he she they are redblue redcy a n-~~ _

~~~~“Well,” his voice is dry, hoarse from the cold, and maybe. . .maybe something else, “you don’t die easily, do you?”


End file.
